It's Just a Number
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Written for Sangreal7. Is David Rossi's age beginning to catch up with him?


_**Author's Note:**_

_**Just a reminder, December 25th is right around the corner. Everyone that signed up for the CM Christmas Fic Exchange, please remember your stories. We want this to be a WONDERFUL gift experience for all involved. If you have any questions, feel free to pm either myself (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969.**_

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_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, favoriter, and alerter that enjoys our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal. Now, on with our story!**_

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**It's Just a Number**

Screw getting old, David Rossi thought darkly as he sank further into his seat on the BAU jet. If what he'd seen on their latest case was a portent for his future...pissing himself and sitting cluelessly in his own shit, literally and figuratively…he'd pass.

Their unsub had managed to make him face, in mere minutes, the knowledge he'd been avoiding for a decade. He was getting old. And it sucked.

Old age was a bitch. And he didn't intend to face it gracefully, either.

Already, when he rose in the morning, his knees and back protested any sudden, unscheduled movements. His days of kicking down doors were long past, the pastimes of the young and hale. He found himself avoiding after dark driving more and more. Hell, he couldn't even see to read without his glasses anymore.

It was happening. It was real. And it scared the shit out of him.

"This seat taken?" he heard a soft familiar feminine voice ask lightly from behind him.

Glancing up, Dave found Prentiss' dark eyes staring curiously at him, slightly narrowed in concentration as if she was trying read between the lines he knew etched his face. "No," he said tersely, turning his gaze back to the small darkened window of the plane.

Perplexed, Emily settled in her seat beside Dave, smiling as Reid passed, his blonde head already buried in a book. Looking to her right, she noted Morgan already had his ear buds in his ears and was thumbing through his phone. A quick glance behind her confirmed that Hotch had buried himself in yet another case file, while JJ sat beside him, tapping the keyboard of her laptop. Turning around, Emily leaned her head against the seat and shot Dave a sidelong glance.

Damn, he looked tense, his face the complete opposite of what she would have expected after the successful apprehension of not one, but two, serial killers. Fidgeting with the book in her hands, she debated beginning a conversation. David Rossi had a habit of shooting down anybody that agitated him when he was in a surly mood. All she had to do was ask Reid to confirm that. But, he was usually pretty mellow with her.

Maybe she should try. She could put on a bullet proof vest, couldn't she?

After all, he'd done his best to be there for her after some of their more difficult cases...the memory of a priest gone horribly astray sprung immediately to mind. Clearing her throat, she murmured mildly, "Did someone shoot your dog or something, Rossi?"

"What?" Dave asked absently, not bothering to look at her, his eyes focused on the hazy horizon outside the plane.

"I asked you if something's bothering you," Emily clarified, nudging his arm lightly as she closed her book and laid it in her lap.

"Nothing that can be helped," Dave grumbled under his breath, feeling his jaw clench as his thoughts continued on their dark and depressing journey.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that," Emily smiled as he turned to look at her. C'mon, Dave, she silently urged, open up to me. "I keep secrets as well as you do, you know," she murmured, shifting closer to him in her seat.

"It's not that," Dave shook his head. Did he really want to confide his fear of his own mortality to his young, beautiful colleague? A woman that had years and years before she needed to be burdened with these kinds of worries. A woman that, if he was a mere decade younger, would not have been safe from his still healthy libido. "I trust you, Prentiss," he assured her softly, meeting her dark eyes.

"I'm glad," Emily replied sincerely. "Now, why don't you share what's caused the vein in your forehead to begin bulging," she teased lightly.

Shaking his head, Dave sighed as he stretched his legs out. "I guess this case just got to me," he shrugged. "I might be a little touchy about anything having to do with aging," he admitted ruefully.

"Aging?" Emily echoed.

"Yeah, Prentiss...aging. In case you haven't noticed, I have an average of twenty years on the other members of this team," he growled, frowning at her.

"I-I'm sorry," Emily faltered, blinking at him as she pressed her fingers against his wrist. "I guess I just never think of you as being older than the rest of us. I mean, yes, I know you're more experienced...but I never really associate that with your age."

"Really?" Dave snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. There was no way in hell a woman like her could stare him in the eye and see anything but a rapidly aging man. It just wasn't possible.

"Yes, really," Emily retorted, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his obstinacy. "I associate your experience with your skills. Not the number on your driver's license. Besides," she added with a smirk, "I've seen and heard you with Morgan at the bars. You certainly don't act your age. It's easy to forget you're older."

"Are you trying to say that I act juvenile, Emily?" Dave said with a slight grin, her words lightening his mood in spite of his mind's attempts to stay mired in the depressing future.

"I'm saying that if we pour a couple of scotches down your throat and sit you at a table with Derek," Emily replied, pausing for effect, "that you're like a frat boy on crack. Trust me."

"Is there a compliment hidden in there somewhere, Prentiss?" Dave chuckled, watching her face carefully. "I mean, I never knew you'd spent so much time watching me. I'm honored," he said with a wink and a smug smile. Maybe he wasn't quite as old as he thought he was if he could still draw the eye of a pretty woman to something other than his wallet.

"Don't let it go to your head," Emily muttered, coloring slightly as she felt his eyes on her. "I didn't say that I found the quality attractive. Just that when I look at you, I don't see your age."

Relaxing as her soft spoken words washed over him, Dave smiled. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice low as he nudged her arm with his elbow, drawing her gaze back to him. "Thank you, Emily," he said with a grateful smile.

"You can thank me tonight," Emily said dismissively, opening her paperback book in her lap. "The first round's on you."

"In a hurry to see my inner frat boy again?" he mocked, his lips twitching as he settled more comfortably into his seat, his shoulders far more relaxed than they had been just minutes earlier.

And with a sigh, Emily Prentiss realized that sometimes, silence was indeed golden.

_**Finis**_


End file.
